


Heat

by Dreamer in the Dark (Dream_Wreaver)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: At What Cost Periphery, At What Cost Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dreamer%20in%20the%20Dark
Summary: Summer nights grow sticky and stifling, and when in Rome, do as the Romans do





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for a lovely reader who ships them, and their love for this ship ended up influencing the direction of the story, so thank you so much angel
> 
> And to clarify, Jalil is probably about 22 and Lila is 19

The biggest problem with the Mediterranean was that it was hot, constantly. And the heat wasn’t simple heat. No, it was oppressive, cloying,  _ clinging _ heat. It stuck to everything, and everyone. And it was terrible. Tempers tended to run high, and no one wanted to do anything. The heat brought out the worst in people, which was why activity for the elite seemed to cease on days like this. The problem was that it wasn’t just a day, it was going on a week without reprieve. Up until now the heat had been an adjustment, but one that was more or less manageable. But now? Jalil found it was too hot to really focus on work. Even with all the windows open, the library was stifling. He hated it, absolutely hated it. What better way was there to spend one’s time than acquiring knowledge, spreading it to the uneducated masses? No, instead he had to be concerned with how his clothes were sticking to his skin, and how the cravat he employed with such care felt like it was choking him the longer he left it on. The day was miserable, and a complete waste of time.

Night brought some relief, and by that one meant that it was cooler and less oppressively hot than the daytime hours. It was still hot, but comparatively it was cool. Still, Jalil couldn't sleep for heat burning along his skin even in his light night clothes. Every time he turned his head, his body, his anything a small sigh of comfort at the cold would no sooner escape him than it was uncomfortably hot again. Toss, turn, over and over, flipping the pillow, nothing kept the sweat from beading on his neck and everywhere else. Eventually, it was with a groan of frustration and defeat that he kicked off the sheet he’d conceded to sleep under and got out of bed. His throat was dry, his temper high, his temperature above comfortable parameters. He wandered the dark halls of the villa, hoping to garner some water to help soothe his nerves and put him at ease enough to sleep. The moonlight spilled through the open windows and onto the floor, puddles of silver that illuminated his way. His feet made no sound on the plush antique carpet. On and on he traveled, strange, the house was huge, but he’d never thought of it as labyrinthian until now. Then again, he’d never had cause to explore much of the house before now.

Jalil’s attention was diverted as he saw a shadow slip along the perpendicular corridor at the end of his own hall. Strange, no one else should have been up at this time of night. Could someone have broken in? It was entirely possible, thieves were abounding more and more recently. Silently Jalil decided to follow. It wasn’t a thief, that much he was certain of as soon as he was able to catch up with them a little more. No, it was Lila, his generous host’s precocious daughter. The one who was a huge flirt, and who Jalil was never quite sure of what her game was. That was the problem, she liked games, and unfortunately for him her games always involved pushing the boundaries of propriety. Though why she wanted to play with  _ him _ of all people was still beyond him. He was titled, yes, but he didn’t have enough money for the ambassador’s taste. And though he was titled and relatively well off, he had no holdings in Italy, it wasn’t worth potential compromising on her end. Maybe Jalil just didn’t understand women, his sister Alix had certainly told him that enough times.

But what was Lila doing up and about at this hour? She’d taken to bed much earlier than usual, claiming to feel incredibly fatigued from the heat. Jalil figured she would have fallen asleep and stayed that way by now. And why was she carrying a large bundle of cloth in her arms? He was too far away to tell anything more than that, only that she appeared to be nervous, constantly looking around in a furtive manner to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Well, well, well, it appeared the clever fox was apparently being outwitted. How novel, since whenever they played he always felt three steps behind her. He trailed her into the nearby woods, private and owned by the estate but still potentially dangerous, considering how the Ambassador loved his hunts. Remaining as silent as possible, Jalil trailed her to a small clearing where a still pond glowed in the evening’s dim light. Lila paused there, and Jalil was about to drop the ruse and ask her what she was doing. And then, then she set the bundle on the ground and pulled off the robe she’d been wearing. Beneath it was nothing but a light chemise, scandalous for him to see in its own right but she was not done yet. All securings in her hair were taken out and laid with the robe, and at last she drew the gown over her head, revealing nothing but golden skin beneath it.

Jalil’s breath caught in his throat and he almost choked. It made a sound, and certain that she would turn looking for him he hid himself behind a tree, muffling his gasps for breath with his hands. Out the corner of his eye he caught her scanning the area with nothing but her long hair to provide her modesty. But apparently seeing nothing she shrugged and turned back to the water’s edge, slowly wading in. a feminine sigh of pleasure reach his ears, and compelled him to return to his vigil. This was wrong, this was so undoubtedly wrong. What he needed to do was return to the house and his borrowed bed and pretend this whole thing had never happened. Then again, another, far more visceral part of him argued, it was dangerous to swim at night. Perhaps he had better stand guard, in case she needed help.

It was a flimsy argument, he couldn’t deny that not even to himself. But it was strong enough to keep his feet, and eyes, rooted to their spots. She cut through the water with impressive strokes, clearly used to swimming for years. Her hair alternated between fanning out without its gravity and clinging to her soaked skin. Occasionally she would let herself sink beneath the surface -one time long enough to make him contemplate breaking his cover and going after her- only to leap out of the water with a powerful splash, scattering droplets around her as the water and moonlight glistened off her skin. And always, always, it was turned in his direction. He saw  _ everything _ , and he had thought of her as a tease before.

If her previous actions had been mere teasing, then this was absolute torture. Jalil’s fingers bit into the bark of the tree he clutched for dear life. He fought to contain his emotions and natural responses to such a tantalizing sight. He thought he was better than most men, concerned only with knowledge and scholarship. Lila’s favorite thing to do was to prove him wrong, and it had been from the very beginning. After a wonderfully, achingly, deliciously torturous eternity, she rose like a nymph from the waves, swinging her bared hips purposefully as she returned to the bundle she’d left on the shore. The cloth was unfolded and wrapped around her body, with her patting and rubbing the fabric across her skin. Then he realized what it was intended for, to help dry her off. When she felt she was adequately free of moisture Lila returned the chemise and robe to their proper positions about her frame. The cloth was folded back into a bundle, and she began her trek this way. Jalil thought he was as good as caught, but he’d luckily picked a tree far enough from the beaten path that with her gaze fixed determinedly ahead she did not notice him at all.

Logic dictated that Jalil should immediately follow after her lest be find himself locked out of the house. But he just couldn’t bring himself to remain so close and in control of his own faculties after such a tempting sight had been put on display. He remained only long enough to gather his senses and calm his body. Though he was quite certain that upon return to his room and his privacy was as long as that control would last.

MLB

One thing studying the past had taught him was that humans were creatures of habit. And that so long as certain conditions remained in place a person would continue with their habit until they changed. That was the world view with which Jalil had consciously constructed his life thus far. But surely, Lila wouldn’t be so brazen for a second night in a row, would she?

It was that question which nagged at him as much as the heat did. The spell of absolutely miserable conditions in regards to temperature apparently had no intentions of breaking any time soon. He heard the chiming of the clock reverberate through the room, just as it had the night before. Jalil had counted the strokes until uncomfortable silence reigned in the oppressive late night heat. As soon as the clock ceased its chiming Jalil rose from his bed and slipped out the door again. Just as the previous night as he reached the end of his darkened hallway, clinging to the shadows purposefully this time, Lila’s lithe silhouette darted across the connecting passageway, intent on the world outside. Jalil followed her out. 

And so this continued for days, going on a week as the heatwave refused to let up. And Jalil cursed himself for his weakness. Was this really what he had been reduced to? Voyeurism on a young maiden who only wished to escape the heat which seemed everpresent? He’d very quickly discarded that lie of a notion that he simply wanted to keep watch in case something happened to her. He knew himself too well, and while his nobler side clung to that idea, his baser instincts were the ones that told the truth. He was attracted to the precocious little chit, he desired her. But he would never touch her. Stolen kisses she took from him were one thing, she never went deeper than a peck. But for him to reach out, he couldn’t betray her like that, nor his host. And he wouldn’t force himself or her into a likely unwanted marriage to satisfy his own desires. Nor would he consider himself so low as to abuse a woman and throw her away if he could help it. A whore was one thing, they had chosen that life, but a lady of noble birth and standing? To reduce her to such a life was almost unthinkable on his part. Then again, as he watched her undulate with the waves he often found it hard to think of anything. Worse still was evading her detection each night. He knew he courted danger, coming to the glade with her each night, but he was powerless to resist. He was a mortal and she was a nymph, had she known of his presence they both would have known who held the power between them. And the images, they haunted his dreams, his waking hours, until he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands, literally.

Each time he watched her it was more and more difficult to delay his gratification. But he couldn’t risk losing himself anywhere except with a bitten pillow to muffle his own sounds. Still, something had to give, and one night as he followed her he noticed she had an exceptionally bored expression on her face. The pattern had continued, she retired early, fatigued from the constant heat, and then she likely waited until the appointed hour to make her way out. But if she were so bored, why did she continue?

It was a question Jalil quickly forgot as she discarded her clothes once again on the shore and stepped into the lapping liquid. It embraced her like a long lost lover, and though Jalil was no romantic, no poet nor minstrel nor singer, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. Of all the ridiculous notions, to be jealous of a damn lake! But better to be jealous of a body of water than an actual body whose form he could crumple beneath an envious fist. Lila paddled around for a few moments before sighing. Then she waded out until she stood in the shadows, hands resting on her hips.

“Do you want to swim, or are you going to stare at me all night again?”

Caught. He’d been caught. There was no denying it, since her eyes and voice had been directed at his hiding spot. Nothing more for it than to own up to his mistake. Hands reticently, demurely, and strategically placed in front of him Jalil entered the sanctity of the clearing for the first time. Lila remained unmoved, arching one fine brow imperiously,

“Well?” she asked.

“I-” Jalil’s throat was dry. It had been difficult to keep his wits about him when watching from a distance, but now, so close, it was physically impossible, “I should apologize, my lady, I saw you sneak out once and thought… well it doesn’t matter what I thought. It was wrong of me to intrude on your private time. I will return to the villa immediately and don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Secret?” Lila cocked her head to the side in a heavy manner, beasts swaying slightly to the side with the movement, “It’s not a secret. Papa knows I will often sneak out to swim when it’s too hot.”

“He- he knows?”

“Si,” Lila replied, “Why do you think no one follows me?”

“I thought-” Jalil blushed and kept his eyes pointed straight at the ground, “I never imagined… In France such a thing would be unheard of, I mean.”

“You think the rich nobles of France do not go swimming on their own property when it’s hot?” Lila asked.

“Not so late at night,” Jalil murmured.

“Why can you not meet my eyes?” Lila asked.

“Isn’t the answer obvious?” Jalil retorted.

“What? My dress, or lack thereof?” Lila began to laugh, “You spend hours upon hours staring at the statues, Venus herself is less modest than I right now.”

“That’s different,” Jalil ground out tightly.

“What’s the difference?” Lila’s tone was equal parts teasing and genuine confusion, as though she did not see a difference between him looking at them, and him looking at her.

“It just is alright!” Jalil snapped.

“Why?” she repeated once again. And seeing as she was incredibly tenacious when of the mind for it, Jalil saw there was no getting out of this without a well-crafted lie, or the truth. And seeing as Lila was an exceptional liar in and of herself, there was really no choice at all.

“You’re real,” he said simply. He could feel her staring at him, examining his words and body language for a tell.

When she found none the matter appeared to be dropped, “I see,” there was a moment of pause before she was back to her normal self, “Well, you’ve come all this way, let us swim.”

“Swim?” incredulous his eyes flicked to her before he could help himself, “Me? Here?”

“Si, si, and si,” Lila teased, humor alight in her verdant gaze, “It’s hot, come for a swim,”

Her tone was inviting, and Jalil became painfully aware of another secret he was hiding. No, no, he simply couldn’t. It had been too much before, he couldn’t allow himself that liberty. Not at all.

“I must, respectfully decline,” Jalil said tersely, “I will keep you company if you wish to swim though.”

Lila pouted, “Come on,” she prodded, pulling at the sleeve of his nightshirt, “It’s hot, even for me. You must be dying right now,” He was, though not in the way she likely was thinking, “Let’s go for a swim? Haven’t you always thought of going for a swim in the moonlight?”

It wasn’t particularly a fancy of his, though the thought had passed his mind once or twice. However, in those fleeting figments of his own imagination he was always swimming  _ alone _ , not with a beautiful and vivacious italian girl he desired to the point of distraction.

“No, no,” he insisted, “I’m fine.”

Lila folded her arms, foisting her breasts up with the motion. But after a moment of glaring sternly at him and his refusal to yield she shrugged, “Suit yourself,” and she turned to wade back into the water.

Jalil heaved a sigh of relief, crisis averted. At least, he had been under the impression it was until a wave of unexpected icy water drenched the front of his clothes. It sent a shock to his system and cause him to freeze. The only thing he could process was Lila’s mischievous laughter.

“Oh dear,” she told him, tone one of mocking sympathy, “Looks like your clothes are all wet. You can’t go dripping that back to the house. You need to take it off and let it dry.”

And instantly Jalil panicked. While the cold water had certainly abated some of the issue he took with removing his clothes, it had not been such a shock as to render himself completely under control. When he refused to move or answer Lila returned from the water and started grabbing at the fabric, pulling it up and over his head. Jalil recoiled, trying to back away from her and keep his clothes and wits about him. But as he knew already, she was tenacious, and her grip was unyielding. Before he really knew what had happened he was as bare as she. But this was no Eden, and she was no Eve. If anything, she was the serpent leading him into temptation. God rest his soul. She discarded the fabric, tossing it to the ground. And Jalil stood there, trying to think of anything that might calm himself as she perused his form.

“There, now isn’t that-” her question cut itself off, and Jalil had the rising suspicion he knew why.

Her footsteps echoed with the soft crush of grass beneath her feet. Closer and closer to him. Jalil felt the nearness of her body, the internal heat of her skin as it was so close with her own. He chanced a look at her face, and her eyes were focused, brows furrowed, intensely concentrated. On the part of him that was so different from her.

“What is this?” she murmured, almost as though not intending to say it aloud.

Jalil had to bite back his scoff, “You’ve seen the statues, you know very well what it is.”

Distractedly she shook her head, “I’ve never seen one that looks like this,” she rebutted, “May I-”

May she what? What could she possibly want with- oh.  _ Oh _ . Her hand was small, hesitant, and yet so wonderful as it wrapped around him. Soft and delicate as opposed to his own calloused palms. Jalil’s knees nearly gave out, as it was they were so weak he had to sit down. Lila sunk to the grass with him. Her cat like eyes flicked up to his, silently asking his permission. Jalil was too far gone to even  _ think _ of denying her now.

At first it was obvious she didn’t know what she was doing. Her grip was slack, and prone to opening as she made a study of what it was she was looking at. How she figured it was different from the thousands of classical and renaissance statuary around the city, he had no idea, but he wasn’t about to rebut it if it meant she would keep touching him. Lila seemed to take encouragement from his expressions and soft sounds of the pleasure she administered. And pretty soon, she was back to her bold and brazen self. She crawled up alongside him, never letting go and with her free hand cupped his jaw, kissing him even as she continued her slow and unsteady strokes. Jalil speared his fingers into her damp hair, curling it around his hands as he deepened the kiss. He felt her rhythm stutter for a moment, unused to the depth which she was now receiving from him. But she quickly regained what she had lost. And Jalil had the urge to share the pleasure.

His hands left her glorious hair and slid along her skin, causing her to shudder under his caress. The shuddering turned to outright trembling when he reached her chest, palming, pinching, and even once flicking the sensitive peaks. Lila broke the kiss to gasp. And then he recognized the gleam in her eyes. Another challenge, another game. She wanted to see which one of them would break first. A smug smirk curled her lips as they descended back to his face. But rather than pick up where they had left off, he felt them press against his skin, slowly trailing down from his jaw to his neck and then to his chest. He saw her intent, and put a hand to her shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this,” it was what he wanted to say, but his voice had completely deserted him. So he tried to convey as much with his eyes. A skilled liar was always good at reading people, he just hoped he was good enough at communicating it. Lila stopped long enough to meet his gaze. A brief nod was his response. And then her lips were back, she didn’t have to do it, she  _ wanted _ to.

The first touch of her lips  _ there _ was a delicate kiss. Apparently she was trying to decide if she wanted to continue on the course she had set. He would allow her to make this decision, it wasn’t something everyone necessarily enjoyed. And then, heat, warm and wet and wonderful heat. The flick of her tongue matching with the throbbing tempo of his heart beating within his veins. It was the only coherent thought he could form, and even then he was certain it didn’t make much sense. Had he been with someone more experience he might have found it embarrassing how quickly he came undone. But given that he was with a true nymph of the forest, a last vestige of the ancient world he so loved, and whom he’d watched for so long, he was honestly more surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. She drove him to absolute distraction, and then he was lost to a haze of blinding white bliss.

When at last he returned it was to her look of smug satisfaction, green eyes glimmering with victory, licking her lips like the cat who’d gotten the proverbial cream. Proverbial, perhaps that word was up for debate. But Jalil was not about to be outdone. He’d always believed in quid pro quo, and he was going to take this available opportunity to prove it. There was just one promise he made to himself that he needed to keep, he would not taint her. She would remain pure. But with enough luck, pure was quite a flexible term, one that gave him plenty to work with. A hot and heavy hand landed on her shoulder, gently pressing her back to the ground. But to ensure she didn’t become frightened he refused to loom over her. As soon as she began to lay back the hand trailed over her form, landing at her legs and coaxing her thighs apart. And then, he reciprocated her actions, with far more skill and finesse, but he wasn’t concerned about that. He was concerned about her, what made her feel good, what sounds she made to express it.

Apparently, she liked to mewl. And scratch, and pull. Even as her legs locked themselves around his shoulders Jalil could feel her nails scrabbling at his neck, raking through his hair. He had to really work to keep the rhythm even with the undulation of her hips. But as she was as inexperienced in this field as she had been the previous, it didn’t take much to rend her apart. And he was more than thankful for how far out into the wilderness they were as she let out a cry that pierced the night when she reached her peak. He softly soothed her as she returned to reality, tender pets and caresses not intended to arouse, but merely provide comfort. Sweat slickened their bodies, though they didn’t feel the oppressive heat around them any longer.

When at last their breathing returned to normal they stared at each other for a moment. Lila crawled over and pressed one of her comparatively chaste kisses against his lips, curling a hand around his neck before pulling back. She stood and went for her clothes, tossing his at him for him to discover it was completely dry.

They made their way back to the house in silence. And as if the gods themselves were either content or disatisfied the next day the heat spell broke and the weather was much more manageable. Jalil, even through his lingering satisfaction, couldn’t help the sharp spear of disappointment that their liaison had seemingly culminated with no opportunity for repeat. That is, he was until Lila brushed by him and left a note crumpled up in his hand. He uncrumpled it to read the missive scripted in her flowing hand. It read,

“Care for a swim?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Until next time


End file.
